Tag: seduction

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. It was here one night among white blossoms and junipers that we lay touching while the rest of the world snored in their small beds. We breathed frost words to breezes on branches breathing deeply in the deep woods with no earthly destination hidden behind the pulse of

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. Earlier today shopkeepers seduced pot-bellied old men with sleek fast brand-new cars that rubbed and kissed their trousers and guaranteed to stop lonesomeness. Erstwhile minds backpedaled on leather seats where stale memories surfaced and breathed new air striking deals in brown cubicles under the breath of fresh coffee.

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. When I sleep you hide paralyzed in the shadows of my bed where your courage to live vanished long ago. In your world of mocking corpses you rub against me in wingless dreams and knitted walls and empty stares that run from the drum of my heart. You

She rode her motorcycle’s heat between her legs from an engine throbbing like constant thunder. The frame and the ride were hot. She shivered like a dangling shoe on the end of a naked foot. She pointed her knees at men she found interesting. The exposure to the frisky wind and throbbing engine were like

Lower your lips to my heart Where our souls touch and flame Where you are ageless in my embrace Protected enough to say you love me Lay with me over moss and leaf Drenched in last night’s rain Their shimmering surf at our thighs Where diamonds and poetry love to weep In this discovery I descend

Today at market, shopkeepers showcased brand-new cars and seduced nearsighted and potbellied old men with promises to stop their loneliness. The promises were offers of a future spent speeding on swift wheels. And so the old men were kissed by shiny chrome rubbing their trousers, and were spent dreaming of getting laid upon the smooth

Tonight embraces me with its darkness That’s where you will find me Alone Waiting for you Waiting with loving hands Wanting you Quivering with anticipation beneath my consuming touches of exploration Darkness, do not mute my cries Ablaze inside the night Find me Caress me Take me to the pinnacle spinning out of control Guttered

Across the wilderness growing hot, I’m quickening with memories rushing to come to me in heated hardness. I run from them until I must rest. You surf in on a Pacific memory, find me and fill my mind with your sweet and sour past. I diet on the sweet parts—my weakness, always. Sweet is sugar

When I, a child, when I could, I voyaged out into your cool company— the coldness of boots pulled on at the doorstep before walking that large solitude of no cricket, no owl; walking with silent snow feet among birdless woods tossed among the taste of echoed blood at such a time, invisible and dull

We bedded with moss and leaf and sand drenched in that evening’s rain; a shimmering surf at our thighs where diamonds and poetry wept on our ocean waves. We stirred to passions rising in us, caressing below an unwatched moon. mouths lips open touched together pressed hot wet arms sparked entwined legs Your breath and

I’m trying to write some erotica for my Colleen Ackerman site … tell me what you think of this. Diary: You should write for a living. OK, go ahead. Me: Have you ever had this fantasy? You’re in a nightclub, and you see this gorgeous chick sitting up at the bar, alone. She’s wearing one

“Do you want to try it? Just to see what it’s like?” She turned to face me on my bed, and offered me her trembling lips. We moved our faces, bumped noses, tilted our heads. I looked into her eyes. She wanted this as much as I did. I pulled her into an embrace. She

I first met a Sidhe when I was 20. Leanne O’Brian was Irish and believed very much she was an actual descendant of a Leanan Sidhe (pronounced lan-awn she). She was beyond gothic-punk and World of Darkness games. She was real and beautiful and captivating. Leanne fascinated me with her Sidhe tales. I knew little